Revised and extended recovery-upload of my story "A Captain's Love: Black Pearl"

When I reread my first story, lately, I concluded that some chapters are missing and that it has a lot of voids. So, I decided to revise it, to add the missing chapters, and to rewrite some of the already existing chapters. The original version(s) will remain published on my original account - YangHuiZhen - so, you'll get the chance to compare all versions...

I hope you'll enjoy this story and if you do so, feel free to tell me...

Disclaimer:

I do not own any rights to "Pirates of the Caribbean", its content or its characters (unfortunately), except for the OCs and the storylines I invented myself.

Prologue: 1715 The Hidden Bay

The island was rather small. It was one amongst hundreds all around the Caribbean and it wasn't even marked within any of the well-established official sea charts. Its bearings got passed down from captain to captain by word of mouth, and even though its port was rather small, lots of sailors used to strike their bargains there for two fundamental reasons:

One, it still belonged to a continuously shrinking amount of free ports without immense taxes, and, two, it still remained unchallenged from the English, now the leading sea power within the Caribbean, and so it happened that ships sailing under different flags and colours used to call at the isle and its inviting settlement with its taverns, inns, chandlers and ... brothels...

But there was more...

Unbeknownst to its inhabitants and visitors, the island kept a secret which only a few ever came to know.

On the reverse side of the isle, sheltered by impenetrable virgin forests, steep cliffs and an insuperable mountain range, lay a picturesque bay surrounded by deep forests and wild scarps. Neither was it to spot from the seaside, nor was it to spot from the countryside, and it lay far enough from both, the port and the trade route; that far that it was unlikely to be discovered by chance. Above all, the hidden bay got separated from the open ocean by a narrow passage and protected by its shallows, currents and hidden reefs - unpredictable dangers for all those who did not know these perils.

Due to these natural barriers it caused that the little settlement nestled up against the hillside remained hidden to the curious eyes of not only the English and the Spanish but also to the numerous pirates who searched for secure hideouts within these waters.

It was early in the morning and still misty after a mild and peaceful night, when a ship searched for its way through the narrow passage, and it seemed to avoid both, the shallows and the reefs, with a kind of sleepwalking matter of course. With its sails already reefed, the crew was busy preparing for mooring and for shore leave.

Unnoticed, and several days too early, the "Silver Stream", a proud and magnificent galleon, returned from her latest adventure. Up at the helm stood two men who shared the watch and kept tabs on the crew and the mist blocking their view: The captain and his trusted first mate and steersman.

The captain lowered his spyglass and pushed it together: "Mister Turner, make sure this old lady will find back to her place safely and silently! We're a bit too early and I think we'll cause our loved ones a big surprise, today. I'd place a bet, none of them reckons on us."

"Aye, captain! Supposedly, you're right. But it's better to return some days too early instead of never, right...?" The first mate, Bill Turner, stated with a grin.

"Indeed, that's true! It did not miss much and we would have ended up at Davy Jones' Locker." The captain replied, frowning: "I just hope we really stayed unchallenged when we left the isle. This adventure isn't over, yet, and it could get us into a lot of trouble with the Council of the Brethren Court. It's no secret at all that the boy we pulled out of the bay is not just an ordinary someone."

"Teague will get in violent temper if he comes to know what we did."

"Take my oath, my friend, he will..."

"And, for sure, his shadow in human form, this miscreant Finch, will already have reported it all to him."

"That's dead certain, for sure!"

"And it does not cause you bellyache?"

"No!" The captain replied with a broad grin: "Not at all! The boy owns everything a pirate needs and more. He's clever, witty and courageous! His talents would have been wasted if we would have left him at Shipwreck Island or at Tortuga! How can they think their code and their brethren are much more valuable than such a brave and dauntless boy? Hard to believe that he's Edward Teague's son, isn't it?" He got stern again: "It's just a pity that he's still too young to keep him aboard, but it would be a shame to only use his skills as a cabin boy. Don't you agree?"

Turner smirked in return: "Come off it, Patrick! Two or three years and he's in command!"

"What's this, William Turner? You're not planning a mutiny, eh?"

Both men burst out laughing, and while the fog lifted, the settlement and the breathtaking environment came into sight. The neat framed houses which snuggled against the hillside belonged to the crew and their families, but also a number of fishermen, merchants, craftsmen and innkeepers enjoyed the peaceful and calm rhythm of life the hidden bay granted them.

The small port offered moorings for two ships, and another galleon got already tied up when the "Silver Stream" reached her berth soundlessly, but the bay was still wide enough to grant shelter to some more ships, if necessary.

Patrick Swallow and his significant other, Rosalind Stevens, belonged to the shrinking group of pirates who managed to stay free from any rules. They still sailed the seven seas for their own profit only, while most of their former companions were vested with letters of marque, by now, and sailed in the name of the King and the Crown of England or had crooked to the Council of the Brethren Court at Shipwreck Cove and its code, the grim and dure pirate law.

Patrick and Rosalind found this strange enchanting island while having been on the prowl after they had stayed at sea for countless months, just stepping ashore to take supplies aboard or to hide from severe weather. In the meantime, the two captains used the unique bearings of this isle and its hidden bay as a well-sheltered hideout and as a base for their future preys.

Swallow's crew was all loyal because there was neither an excessive rigour aboard his vessel nor an all too lax regiment. He knew how to handle all the different characters he was surrounded by, and none of the men would ever have doubted his orders. They shared their loots one to one, with an extra part for the captain, which he and his men mostly spent within the next tavern in reach as soon as they made berth at the next port: A payment for a proper drinking bout, and some well-rounded wenches.

Patrick Swallow was a man in his middle ages. Whoever came across him for the first time would never have supposed him to be a sailor or a dreaded pirate. He was neither tall nor was he strong, but he owned this unmistakable feeling for doing the right thing within the right moment. This unique sense and his immense knowledge of tactics and navigation made him one of the best captains sailing these waters. Due to these unmatched skills, he and Rosalind once succeeded in sending about fifty trading and merchant vessels to the deep depths of Davy Jones' Locker within just one year, regardless of the colours they did fly. Following this disaster, both, the Spanish and the English, offered a prize on Patrick's head, but his only answer when he got to know that also the French followed this example, was a loud laugh. Afterwards, he ordered another mug of beer and went on celebrating with his crew.

His missing strength and his lack of size, he compensated with robustness and agility as well as with cleverness and slyness. Above all, he owned an already legendary grasp for the sea and its inscrutable depths. His weathered face was tanned and sunburned, and it got dominated by his sparkling grey eyes. His long hair, once ash-blond, got bleached by the sun and several grey strands had mingled in as the years passed by. He used to wear it in a loose braid, which made him appear much younger than he was.

Swallow was a passionate captain, who loved his ship and his crew, and every man aboard knew, he would never leave a man behind, if he was able to avoid it. To him, the loss of a good man was much worse than the loss of a rich prey. However, every now and then he felt driven to leave his ship and the wide open of the sea for a stay ashore. Then, no one came across him or even spotted him for weeks and everybody knew there was only one reason for his strange behaviour: His beautiful match Rosalind Stevens.

His crew already knew, by now, that it was time to stay ashore for a couple of weeks, and even if there was no new adventure to be expected all too soon there was still a lot of work to do. The weeks ashore would pass by within a blink of an eye, and in the end they all would agree that it didn't do to finish all the repairing, the renovation and the mending the ship needed. Not to forget about the storing of fresh water, fresh fruit, supplies, rum, powder, and lots of other goods they were in need of. Therefore, shore leave was more than welcome. Even more so because no one aboard would deny that it was much more comfortable to do the mending within the calm waters of the hidden bay instead of having to do it while being tossed to and fro by the at times rough waves and currents out at the open ocean. Keeping this in mind, there stood not to be feared to die from boredom.

And Swallow knew, most of the men were glad to stay at home for a month or two. They had already started to get impatient to finally see their families again.

Of all the questions Patrick Swallow had to deal with at the moment, he got bothered especially by one: He asked himself what would happen to him and his men as soon as the Council of Shipwreck Cove and their leader, the Keeper of the Code, would find out aboard which vessel the boy escaped. He knew, neither he nor his crew could expect any mercy if the council would draw its conclusions. Since they did not accept the code and the pirate law, they were, indeed, free from its duties and its repression, but they also lost the protection and the shelter the code granted the pirates of the brethren. Weighing up the pros and cons, though, Patrick was still convinced he had made the right decision when he turned his back on the brotherhood, although he had no illusions about what would happen to him, if they would ever find his secret hideout.

Bill Turner tore him out of his thoughts: "What do you have in mind concerning the boy? Will you take him under your wings?"

"Yes, that's what I want to do," Patrick replied: "Rosalind will love him. And to be honest, even if he's already a versed sailor, what he's even more is a cute little boy."

"Oh yes! I agree! There's no doubt about Rosalind and that she will love him, but what about Caithleen? Don't you think she could get jealous? You didn't really raise her as a girl and she acts way more like a boy than it would suit a young woman to-be."

"Don't be at fault, Bill! Caith is already woman enough to turn a grown man's head. She owns enough female attractions to cause a stir amongst the men and I fear, I'll have to defend them against her admirers soon."

"That's not to overlook that she will become as pretty as her mother, but that's not what I asked, Pat. You know very well that she's able to defend herself and I can't help, my friend, I doubt that it was only Rosalind, who taught her how to shoot, how to fence and how to use pistol, cutlass and grapnel."

"It was only Rosalind who taught her that, mate!" Patrick declared with a wink.

"Then, you should better warn the poor boy before he makes the mistake to think Caithleen's just a girl. Maybe you should teach him some tricks for self defence against her..."

"I thought of that, too, but after he spent his whole life within the fortress of Shipwreck Cove and amongst a breed of remorseless, reckless and cruel miscreants, I suppose him to be in the know of how to resist her. He's the son of Captain Teague, so, he should know what it means to fight for his life. Not an easy life, if you ask me, why else would he prefer to take flight from the isle?" With a shrug he added: "I'm still convinced it won't be necessary for him to defend himself against our little lass. I think they will either hate each other or they will end up within the hayrick. Imagine it, Bill! Caith and the boy – there would be some pretty little ones to be expected, eh...?"

Both men started laughing...

The same moment the "Silver Stream" reached her berth and the anchor fell with a loud rattle. Swallow was content. There weren't many steersmen as virtuous at the helm as Bill Turner. He was a great sailor, a courageous pirate, and a good friend, and Patrick couldn't imagine to miss him, but he still asked himself what it was that kept the well-adjusted and discreet Bill Turner amongst a crew of dreaded pirates, especially since he found himself a pretty lass on one of their preys: A passenger aboard one of the vessels they had captured. Bill did save her when the ship burst into flames, and they fell for each other at first sight. When they wanted to drop her off at Tortuga, she decided to stay, and so it happened that she and Turner stayed together within the hidden bay, but whenever Patrick asked them why they did not return to London, they both kept silent. Whatever the answer might have been, he was glad to have Turner aboard. One cool-headed man at the helm was good to have, two of them were even better. They had become close friends while they had been out on numerous preys, and their friendship worked perfectly well without a lot of words.

"Any orders concerning the crew or the reparation, captain?" The quartermaster appeared up at the helm.

"If the ship is moored, if everything is in place and if the watch is organized, you're all free to go ashore. The men shall take some days of rest. Work can wait till the end of this week. For you all know where to find the tavern, you know what to do, tonight, don't you? We'll go to divide the prey, so, tell them all to assemble in time. That's all for the moment!"

"Aye, captain!"

With it the man returned to deck, and shortly after a crew of tired sailors left the "Stream" for a well-deserved shore leave. Most of them were glad to feel solid floor under their feet for a while, and Swallow knew he could trust in his men. It needed no orders, the men had organised the watch by themselves, and due to this there were no problems to be expected. With sunset, they would meet at the tavern, and with the end of the week they would start mending their "Stream".

"Sir?" The youthful voice tore Patrick out of his thoughts and caught his attention: "What's going to happen to me?"

In front of him stood a cute boy of about fifteen years. He was slender, lithe, and really keen for his age. His pretty face, with its delicately chiselled features, its soft brown eyes and its perfectly carved lips, was tanned, and Patrick was convinced he would turn lots of girls' heads and break lots of girls' hearts, one day. Here and now, he cocked his head and gazed at Swallow expectantly. If it was admiration or relief wasn't easy to say, but without fail it seemed as if the lad was glad for Patrick having pulled him out of the bay near Shipwreck Cove, and for having decided not to take him back to the fortress, but to this secret hideout, instead, no matter the fact that this rescue rather resembled an abduction.

The boy did not lament when Patrick told him that he had to stay aboard for a while. Quite the contrary. As long as the crossing took, he asked intelligent questions, and it turned out that he was eager to learn and thirsty for knowledge. There was no doubt, the lad already knew a lot about seafaring and navigation, and Patrick was convinced that he would become captain of a suitable vessel on his own, rather sooner than later.

Swallow gave him a smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders: "So now, Jack Sparrow, here we are. That's the isle I told you about, and you'll accompany me up to the cliffs. I'm sure you'll like my little home up there, and I think you will also love my two black crows when you'll get to know them. Promise."

The house, Patrick Swallow had built up for him, his partner and her daughter, was settled on top of a cliff high above both, the sea and the bay. It looked like a little cottage, homelike and inviting, with its whitewashed walls and its partly overgrown garden where roses, flowers, vegetables, fruit and berries grew.

The unique location of the cottage made it possible to have a wide view over the bay, the open ocean and the isle's back-country without getting into danger of being watched oneself. It was a great sight and the boy had an enthused look around. A thin trail of smoke ascended from the chimney, and a woman was just opening the blinds and the windows when she recognised her early visitors: "Patrick!"

One moment later, she opened the door and hurled herself into Swallow's arms. It didn't take long, and they forgot about everything they were surrounded by: The here and now, the beautiful morning, and the boy who stared shyly and waveringly at the tips of his boots. It was then, when another woman appeared. She was young, much more a girl of his age than a woman. Untamed black curls surrounded her pretty face and fell into her shining grey eyes. Her skin was tanned, a sign that she was used to staying out in the open, and she was dressed like a boy. When she became aware of Patrick and Rosalind, she rolled her eyes, all in the know of what was going on. She waved the boy to follow her and said with a shrug: "Better don't mind it! I'm used to it, by now, means it will last a little longer, you know. C'mon, you must be hungry."

With another curious glance at the entangled pair, the boy followed the girl into the house: "I suppose, they like each other?"

"That?" The girl laughed: "Oh yes, they like each other deeply. Sometimes that deeply that they forget about everything. I prefer to stay outside then. You know what's meant, don't you?"

He gazed at her in surprise, and answered, a little confused about her straightforwardness: "What? Oh yes, I know..." He cleared his throat, and then he asked: "Who are you?"

"I'm Caithleen! Caithleen Stevens! You can call me Caith! That's my mum out there! She's the owner of the ship moored to the pier, the 'Eagle's Wing'! I'm supposed to become her captain, one day." She smiled and went on: "What about you? Who are you?"

"I'm Jack Sparrow!" He smirked: "I want to be a captain of a ship as well, one day. I love the sea and I love my freedom!"

"So do I!"

They smiled at each other and kept silent for a while until Caithleen said: "Don't be shy, please. No need for that! Sit down! I suppose, Patrick wants you to stay with us?"

"Yes, that was what he said! At least something like that..."

"Uhh! I hope it does not mean I have to behave like a lady from now on..."

Jack shook his head, and grinned: "You haven't! Not to please me! I'm not used to staying amongst ladies."

"Oh good! I'm glad to hear that because we'll share the chamber up there due to the lack of space within here, you know." When she saw his inquiring gaze, she added: "No need to worry! We'll share the chamber not the bed..."

With it, she started to lay the table with everything she found within the small kitchen, and while doing so she glanced at Jack from time to time. They didn't say a word until she was finished, and her curiosity was nearly boiling over, but before she could ask him another question, Rosalind and Patrick entered the room.

"So, you're Jack Sparrow, the son of Captain Teague?" Rosalind perched herself on a stool astride, and looked straight into his eyes. She grasped for a mug of wine and added: "Can't say I envy you about this fact, son. Surely, it's not easy to survive within the fortress nowadays, isn't it?"

"I preferred to choose my freedom!" Jack answered, and he looked much more stern than a boy of his age was supposed to.

"I understand!" A shadow passed over Rosalind's face and made her appear much older than she was. She looked like an older version of Caithleen with one difference: She wore her long black hair in a braid. A badly healed scar was to spot on her left cheek, but it wasn't able to destroy her beauty. Jack wasn't sure why, but the smile that brightened her face never reached her eyes, as if something kept her from feeling unrestrained joy. When she placed her mug back on the table, Jack became aware that her hand as well as her arm up to her shoulder were scarred, too.

"No sight to behold, isn't it, lad?" She asked, and he winced.

"I'm sorry..."

"No need for excuses! They're all gained in honest fights and mostly it was my own fault anyway! But let's talk about you, Jack Sparrow! Patrick told me about your bold escape. I stayed at the fortress for several times. Not often, but often enough to know that living under the code isn't easy. Especially, if I think of that scum that calls itself pirate or buccaneer! There is only one reason why they're willing to accept the code: Because they're in need of the shelter the code and the brethren grants them! But it's not included that a boy like you turns his back on the fortress, am I right? The more, if the boy's the son of the legendary Captain Teague! I fear, they're not happy about your escape!"

Rosalind's voice reflected her feelings - disgust and reluctance - but it passed by quickly, and she went on with a smile: "But tell me, Jack, if you're Teague's son, I suppose you to be a suitable sailor yourself, right?"

"I was out on some forays aboard my own vessel for several times!" Jack replied.

Rosalind and Patrick looked at each other in surprise, then she smiled again and said: "Well, that's promising! What do you think, are you interested in hiring aboard my ship and in sailing under my command? I'm in need of a young and temerarious fellow who loves the sea and on whom I and Caithleen can count on..."

"But you don't know anything about me except for my name..."

"Well, then it's time to find out, who you really are, young Mister Sparrow, and what skills you own. You love your freedom, right? She as well..." Rosalind pointed at Caithleen: "If you're both willing, you can make a lot out of your skills. So, listen to me, then. Both ships moored to the pier will need younger captains, one day. Show me what talents are yours. If I do not know much about you, now, I will know a lot about you as soon as we'll set sail for the first time and as soon as we'll return from our first prey, afterwards. And who knows, if I can trust you I'll possibly leave the 'Wing' to you and Caithleen. I would love to stay ashore forever, one day..."